


Why Jim Never Gets Hurt

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim's injured on a case, and Blair does his best to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Jim Never Gets Hurt

(Standard, all-purpose disclaimer) All pre-existing characters are the property of the creators and producers of "The Sentinel." No copyright infringement is intended. All new characters and situations are the sole property and responsibility of the author. 

**MEMO FROM BUFFY** 

Katrina is busy watching tapes instead of writing, the little lazybutt. So while she's distracted, I'm going to prowl through the stories she's working on ... ooOOooh, here's one. A gut-wrenching examination about why Blair is always the one who gets physically hurt. I can work with this. 

And since this is my first posting to Senad, let me say a quick hello. I'm Buffy, Katrina's Evil Twin, and she wishes it known that she has no control over anything I write. Sarah was worried that people would start thinking of her as the court jester of Senad, so I decided to take the onus from her shoulders. *Onus*. I said *onus*, not ... geez, what a bunch of pervs. 

## Why Jim Never Gets Hurt

by Buffy

"Jim!" Panicked, Blair tenderly ran his hand across his lover's bruised face. "Come on, baby. I've got to get you out of here." 

"Blair?" Jim took a deep, shuddering breath and opened his eyes. Looking up at Blair in pain and confusion, he said, "Please, Blair, take me home ..." 

Taking Jim's arm, Blair gently eased him into a sitting position. "Okay. Just let me ... unnngh. Um, Jim, could you help me a little here?" But Jim just let his head rest wearily on Blair's shoulder. 

"Oooookay." Taking a deep breath, Blair put Jim's arm around his shoulder. Wrapping his arm around the bigger man's waist, he stood up carefully, pulling Jim up after him. "Whoof. You still with me, big guy?" 

"Oh, Blair ..." Jim's knees buckled. 

"Ack!" Blair braced his legs just in time to keep Jim's weight from carrying them both back to the ground. "Come on, Jim, just a few yards to the truck." 

It took all of Blair's strength, but he finally managed to walk Jim over to the truck. As he started to open the passenger side door, Jim pulled back. Sighing, Blair said, "What now?" 

"I never sit on the passenger side, Blair. I always drive." Groping his way along the hood, Jim made his way to the driver's side. 

"Jim! You're hurt, you're concussed, you're bleeding, you're suffering from smoke inhalation, and I think you're showing the early symptoms of dengue fever. I can't let you drive!" 

"That doesn't matter. I *always* drive." 

"Oh, yeah." Reluctantly, Blair helped Jim into the truck and went around to the other side to climb in beside him. "All right, let's take this slow and easy ..." 

Jim's erratic driving caused three accidents, a school bus was run off the road and he nearly hit four dogs, but they finally made it back to the loft. 

Running to Jim's side of the truck, Blair just managed to catch him before he tumbled to the ground. "You know, Jim, an ambulance might not be a bad idea. An ambulance with some big, tall, strong paramedics ... doesn't that sound great?" Blair groaned as he manhandled Jim in the front door. 

"No ... Blair, I just want to sleep." 

"Yeah. Sleep. That sounds fine. Let's just go in my room ... you can crash there tonight." 

Digging his feet into the ground, Jim shook his head. "No, I want to sleep in my bed." 

"Your bed." 

"Yes." Jim nodded weakly. 

Blair paused. "Your bed is upstairs." 

"I know. Oh, Blair, please," Jim whimpered. 

"Yeah, okay, sure ... uuurrrghh. Help me out here, would you? ... Jim, come on, you can lift your own feet ... Oh God, man, can't we move to a place without stairs? ... Oh God. Okay, a few more steps ... Oh, thank *God*." Blair eased Jim to the bed and collapsed beside him. 

Jim looked at Blair soulfully. "Make love to me, sweetheart." 

"Oh, Jim ... I can't. I just can't," Blair moaned. 

"Why? Are you afraid of traumatizing me? Are you afraid of causing more damage to my wounded body and psyche?" 

Blair rolled over, clutching his midsection. "No ... I think lugging you around all day has given me a hernia."   
  


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